


Barbie and Clyde

by DrogonTheDragon



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, But Not Much, Fake Identities, Flirting, Happy Ending, Identity Porn, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mob Boss Steve Rogers, Sort Of, Violence, is there a difference between mob boss and gang leader???, the avengers is a gang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21580021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrogonTheDragon/pseuds/DrogonTheDragon
Summary: Squinting his eyes, he zeroed in on his target. Pressing down on the trigger, a single bullet fired from the revolver lodged comfortably in his hands. The familiar BANG! reached his ears as a smile spread across his face.Tony watched as the man across the room, hidden within the shadows, nearly invisible to the naked eye, went down like a dead weight. The blonde man before him whirled his head towards Tony.Tony smirked at the surprised look on his handsome face. “Hey there, Clyde,” He ignored the sudden influx of loaded guns facing him, “now we’re even.”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 309





	Barbie and Clyde

Tony heard the shouts and gunshots from over three streets away. Honestly, don’t these mob bosses know that they will _never_ remain under the radar if they make more noise than the entirety of Manhattan Island? 

By the time he arrived at the address listed on his phone, he looked up at the abandoned warehouse and rolled his eyes. Abandoned warehouse? Really? Ugh, it was such a clique. 

Walking around the edges of the building, he looked for any entrance points. The graffiti coated warehouse gleamed in the moonlight. Various lines, squiggles, and streams of profanity covered the surface. Tony would have found some of the artwork to be more amusing if he didn’t have something he needed to do. As he headed towards the back of the building, he walked passed the windows, without even attempting to gain entrance that way. The pieces of boarded-up wood that were supposed to be nailed against the window frame had been ripped off. He looked down at the splintered wood which littered the ground next to an abandoned crowbar. 

Walking a little further, he brushed his fingers against what looked like dried blood, splattered across the wall. What a lovely establishment...

Continuing forward, while stepping over a pile of broken glass, Tony walked to the back of the warehouse finding a single door propped open with a cracked, red brick. 

The gunshots were much louder, this close up. He could hear them bounce off of walls, strike various objects, and of course, his ears filled with the pained moans of men as the bullets lodged themselves through their skin. 

Damn, why did he always fall for bad boys? They were nothing but trouble. 

Tony pulled out the gun he kept in his waistband and locked it, raising it in front of his face as he slowly took a few steps forward. Peeping inside the door, he surveyed the complete disarray coming from the inside of the warehouse. Countless of boxes and crates and tables were turned on their sides as various people hid behind them, leaning over the side to fire their weapons across the crowded space. 

Crouching down, Tony slipped through the door, brandishing his weapon. Scanning his surroundings, Tony went behind the closest blockade. He popped his head to the side and watched the two sides fight. Both sides ran behind some blockades before firing and then running to a new hideaway, and repeating those steps. 

Disgust spread across his face as he looked at the dead body laying ten feet away from him. It’s open, unresponsive green eyes stared into brown ones. Forcing himself to look away, he waited for the fight to die down. Watching as blood splattered on the floor, bodies dropping, and-- yuck… was that brain matter? God, what savages. 

Once the shooting stopped, Tony counted to thirty before a male voice in the room he hadn’t heard before spoke up. 

“Is that all of them?” 

“I think so.” That firm voice was the one he knew. 

He could hear some faint shuffling. More people must be walking away from their hiding spots. 

Tony turned to look at the object of his affection when something else caught his attention. 

Squinting his eyes, he zeroed in on his target. Pressing down on the trigger, a single bullet fired from the revolver lodged comfortably in his hands. The familiar BANG! reached his ears as a smile spread across his face. 

Tony watched as the man across the room, hidden within the shadows, nearly invisible to the naked eye, went down like a dead weight. The blonde man before him, whose back faced the hidden man from the shadows, wiped his head towards Tony. 

Tony smirked at the surprised look on his handsome face. “Hey there Clyde,” He ignored the sudden influx of loaded guns facing him, “now we’re even.”

* * *

_Shield was pretty packed that night. The bar was filled with lively voices and slightly intoxicated bodies dancing in the corner. Tony’s eyes scanned around the room until they landed on a bulky figure on a bar stool._

_Bingo._

_From the back, Tony admired his unusual figure. Wide shoulders, well-muscled frame leading towards his narrow waist. Tony watched as the man nursed what he thought to be whiskey, making him want one of his own. Quickly running his fingers through his hair, he sauntered over towards the bar and sat down right next to the handsome blonde._

_"I'll have whatever he's having." He called to the bartender who made and placed his drink in front of him in under one minute. "I was right, you are drinking whiskey." He said, the fiery liquid scorched his throat as he took a large sip. "So do you come here oft-HOLY SHIT!"_

_Tony fully turned to get a good look at the man but he didn't realize he was talking to a model. The man's t-shirt was about two sizes too small, graphing to his torso leaving little to the imagination. And his face, his perfectly chiseled face. His jaw looked so sharp Tony could cut himself on it and his cheekbones jutted slightly as if he were chiseled from stone. And his eyes. His bright startling blue eyes pierced into Tony's soul. They were a gateway to an unattainable oasis that Tony never knew he craved. And his pink, full lips were turned up slightly. Amused by Tony's outbursts._

_"You're a real-life Ken doll!"_

_The blonde laughed sheepishly, placing his whiskey back on the bar, tapping his fingers against the glass. "So does that make you Barbie?"_

_Ooh, he was a flirt, this was going to be fun. "I can be whoever you want me to be." He purred, scooting his seat a little closer. "Do you come here often? I don't remember seeing you before and your face isn't one I'd forget easily."_

_"M'not from around these parts." Oh God, the sound of his voice did things to Tony. His slight accent made him want to swoon. "Usually I just stay holed up in Brooklyn."_

_That was weird. "Why's that? Manhattan and Brooklyn aren't far from each other."_

_The Ken doll smiled at him. "Would you believe me if I said the Whiskeys better in Brooklyn?"_

_"Not a chance, gorgeous," he laughed, "So what brings you to the city?"_

_He took a long sip before answering. "Business meeting. But the guy never showed."_

_"Can't say I blame the guy. Business meetings can be a real bore. I hardly ever show up to them." Pepper organized a system within JARVIS's programming that will alert him in 15 minutes intervals for two hours before he has a meeting as a way to get him to show up. It worked pretty well, recently he tried to show up to a few more meetings than he usually did to help with her stress levels._

_"I don't suppose it was you who stood me up on the docks at ten then?"_

_"Ten? No. If you had said nine then I'd be your guy."_

_The guy was a total dreamboat. They talked for the next twenty minutes and Tony ordered them another round. The blonde was much flirtier than Tony originally expected, providing him with provocative comebacks for all of Tony’s come-ons._

_Tony just finished telling a story from his and Rhodey’s MIT days, when a question he didn’t already ask suddenly occurred to him. “What’s your name, handsome.”_

_He took a long sip from his whiskey, “Clyde.”_

_“Clyde?” There was no way that man was telling the truth. Clyde? No. Absolutely not._

_"My Ma was a big fan of the murders." He explained with a smirk._

_Tony waited for the man to reciprocate his question, but he never did. “Don’t you want to know my name?”_

_“Nope,” ‘Clyde’ smiled at the offended look that spread across Tony’s face, “I like Barbie.”_

_Tony leaned in closer, his lips lightly pressing against the man's ear while he whispered, “Wanna see my dream house?”_

_‘Clyde’s’ dark eyes were on him as he pulled away. Tony bit his lip as ‘Clyde’ reached forward and grabbed at his wrist. Holding it not too tight, but putting enough pressure for Tony to gauge the man's excitement. Well, that and the slight bulge visible through his jeans._

_Tony threw dollar bills at the bartender before the two of them hopped off their stools and basically ran out of the bar like children._

_Running into the hotel across the street, Tony told ‘Clyde’ to wait for him at the elevator while he went to the reception desk to get a room key._

_He told the receptionist to give him a random suite instead of using his key for the penthouse. He didn’t want ‘Clyde’ knowing that he owned the hotel, the man didn’t seem to know who he was and finding out the truth might be a mood killer. He figured this would hold over better if he kept the truth to himself. The receptionist gave him the keycard with a knowing smirk and wished him a good night._

_Heading back to the elevator he saw that ‘Clyde’ was no longer alone. There was a small group next to him waiting for the elevator as well, so when it finally arrived, Tony wasn’t able to shove him against the wall like he wanted to._

_But their being people around them didn’t stop ‘Clyde’ from keeping his hands to himself. The two were huddled together in the corner of the crowded elevator and ‘Clyde’ kept to his side, keeping one hand in Tony’s back pocket. Tony shot him a look but ‘Clyde’ only squeezed the hand on his ass in response._

_By the time the elevator pinged, the doors opening on the thirty-seventh floor, the two ran down the halls searching for room 22A._

_The moment the room door closed, ‘Clyde’ was on him. Shoving him into the wall, crushing their bodies against each other. Their lips slotted together, tongues lapping, teeth clashing. Dragging his fingers through ‘Clydes’ soft hair, the larger man moaned into his mouth. And at that point, Tony had almost lost the ability to stand on his own two legs if ‘Clyde’ hadn’t been holding him up with his own body._

_‘Clyde’ rested his hands on the back of Tony’s thighs, hitching his legs around his waist. “Oh God,” Tony moaned as ‘Clyde’ arched into him._

_“I love how you sound, Barbie,”_

_“I’ll make all the sounds you want if you keep doing that.”_

_By the time the two had landed on the bed, most of Tony’s clothes had already been shed from his body. His Armani suit crumpled on the floor by the foot of the bed. ‘Clyde’ lifted himself off of Tony to peel of his t-shirt and Tony swears his heart stopped beating. There was officially no way that ‘Clyde’ was human. He must be lying. No average human’s six-pack had its own six-pack. This adonis must be a Greek God instead of a normal man. Surely he was Hercules in disguise._

_Using the packet of lube Tony carried in his pocket, ‘Clyde’ spread his open, fucking him within an inch of his life using only his fingers. Honestly having his body mauled by ‘Clydes’ lips was the best thing to happen to him in a while._

_And Tony had to admit, hearing ‘Clyde’ call out ‘Barbie’ as he came inside him, sent shivers down his spine._

_Afterward, 'Clyde' cleaned the two of them up and fell asleep beside him. Tony waited twenty minutes before getting up and getting to work. Slipping on his suit, he walked over towards 'Clydes' pile of clothes and started going through the pockets._

_Grabbing his leather wallet, he opened it looking for the man's license but the man had no identification._

_None at all._

_No license, no insurance card, no credit card, no gym membership._

_Nothing._

_Oh well, Tony supposed he’ll have to remain as 'Clyde' in his head._

_Going through his wallet, he counted three crisp hundred dollar bills, one fifty, three twenties, one ten, one five, and six singles. Tony thought about pocketing the cash, but then thought better of it._

_Moving onto his pant pockets, Tony found a pocket knife, a rabbit's foot keychain, and receipt for a coffee shop on 5th Avenue._

_Keeping the pocket knife for himself, Tony was about to accept that this guy had nothing worth taking when suddenly he remembered the watch on the man's wrist._

_A quartz Seiko with a dark brown leather wristband._

_Tony had done this dozens of times, but every time he does, he gets such a nervous thrill. Very gently, Tony reached for 'Clyde's' wrist. The first step is always the hardest: getting them to turn their palm up. But once that's it, it'll be smooth sailing._

_Tentatively, Tony rested his fingers above 'Clyde's' wrist slowly turning it over, making sure to pause after every-some movements. Once his wrist was fully turned, Tony kept his fingers where they were. Sudden changes like moving your hands on and off of someone made it easier for their brain to hone in on those jerky movements, and effectively pulling them from their sleep. If he kept his fingers in place while his other hand worked on freeing the watch from his wrist, then he’ll be done in minutes._

_Once the watch came off, Tony took a minute to admire it. Watching as the second's hand slowly ticked by. Eventually, he pocketed it along with the pocket knife and officially called it a night. With one last glance at ‘Clyde’, the most breathtaking stranger with a fake name he’s ever met, and walked out of the hotel room, and headed towards Stark Tower._

.  
.  
.

_"You have something of mine, Stark. I want it back."_

_Slapping a hand across his chest, Tony turned, calling out, "Jesus fucking Christ!" Standing in his office doorway was definitely not a sight he'd ever thought he'd see. 'Clyde' was standing there, looking all polished in a Washington black suit. Tony would have been gaping if it weren't for the furious expression on the man's face._

_"I said," his voice dropped as an icy chill spread throughout the office, "you have something of mine. I want it back."_

_"How did you get up here?"_

_"I had to show the receptionist a badge to get her to talk."_

_Dammit, he should have been more careful last night when he was surveying the bar. "You're a cop?"_

_"No Barbie, I'm a Ken Doll. Now give me my things."_

_Tony stared at him for a moment longer before opening one of his desk drawers. “You’re lucky,” he said pulling out the watch and pocket knife, “I wasn’t even going to bring this in with me today. I don’t even know why I did.” But he did know. The thrill of taking someone's things always lingers for the next day or two however it usually starts to subside by the first morning, but ‘Clyde’ was different. He never felt this way about stealing from someone before. It’s like the rush still hasn’t left his body. The thrill stayed in his bones like a hibernating bear. Just this morning, he came in the shower by thinking of how he was able to steal from ‘Clyde’, this seemingly unreal sex god… it’s like he’s high on adrenaline and doesn’t know what to do with this unexpected energy._

_“How did you find me?”_

_“It wasn’t hard.” His eyes were trained on Tony’s desk. “I went back to the hotel, and after a few minutes, the receptionist gave me all I needed to know. Now, back to the important matters,” ‘Clyde’ surged forward and ripped the items out of Tony’s hands. He carelessly tossed the watch into his pants pocket as if it were nothing before turning over the pocket knife in his hand, inspecting the handle, checking to make sure every mark, indentation, and scratch was still there._

_Waving the knife around, he barked, “Why did you take this?!”_

_Tony didn’t care if he stole from this man or if he was a cop, but there was no way in hell was he letting him march into his own office and berate him. “Because I wanted to.” he seethed back._

_‘Clyde’ marched over towards the back of his desk, towering his large body over Tony, making him shrink back. “If you ever take what’s mine again, I’ll kill you. And I’ll make it my personal mission that your body never gets found.”_

_Tony gulped. The last time they were this close together, Tony enjoyed it much more. “I thought cops aren’t allowed to make threats.”_

_“I already told you Barbie, I’m not a cop, I’m a Ken doll.” He said in a sickly taunting voice before storming out of the office._

_Tony remained frozen, he stood staring out at the door, still picturing ‘Clyde’s’ silhouette dart passed. The only thing snapping him out of his trance was JARVIS notifying him that he had a meeting in one hour and forty-five minutes._

_Tony pushed off his desk and headed toward the minibar. Pouring himself a generous helping of scotch, he pushed it down in one hard gulp, forcing the heavy liquid to pass his throat._

_Tony went to sit behind his desk when he noticed something was missing from it. A little special something._

_“Dammit,” he muttered, wanting to throw everything in his office. “Jay, pull up the security footage. I need to find out who ‘Clyde’ really is.”_

.  
.  
.

_“He called himself ‘Clyde’?”_

_“Yes Thor, we’ve been over this.”_

_“It’s just… that’s such a made-up name.”_

_“That’s what I said!”_

_After all of JARVIS’s facial recognition searches came back negative, Tony knew that he needed to get serious. And the only way to do that was to seek help from his friends in Asgards Gang._

_Tony and Thor go way back. When Tony first met Thor, it was when the man tried to run him over with his car._

_Now it wasn’t intentional… at least, that’s what Thor claims._

_Thor snuck into the annual Maria Stark Foundation to confront one of his pals, a long-time donor for the foundation named Erik Selvig, for information regarding his brother. When Selvig had no new info, Thor got mad and stormed out. As he was pulling his black SUV out of his parking spot in the parking garage, he was too angry to check in his rearview mirror to see behind him where Tony was walking to get away from the piranhas and to get some fresh air. Unintentionally, Thor hit Tony with his car, and he fell to the ground, receiving a mild concussion._

_At first, Thor thought that he killed Tony, and Tony thought that the wild man was trying to kill him._

_It was a very long and confusing night._

_“Look, just,” Tony sighed, rubbing his hands down his face, “Just take a few days and look into this for me. I really need to know who he is… What?”_

_“You… you don’t know who this is?” Thor’s eyes were practically poking through his skull._

_“No Thor, of course, I know who he is. I was just asking you so I could waste both of our time!”_

_Thor looked uncomfortable with having to be the one to tell him what he knew. “Tony… this is the Captain.”_

_Tony's heart stopped._

_The Captain._

_Of course._

_Of course, he had to go off and steal from the Captain._

_Everyone knew of the Captain. He was the most feared and deadly mob boss of them all. His gang, called the Avengers, were located mainly in Brooklyn, but they specialized in keeping order. If certain people were making trouble, the Captain and his Avengers took care of it. In some ways, they weren’t entirely bad. They didn’t shake down people for money to gain ‘their protection’, they didn’t attack random people, or go around making enemies with whoever got on their nerves. They were the most elite and organized gang in all of Manhattan. Yes, they killed people, and yes, they stole. But they didn’t do that just for fun. Overall they weren’t a bad gang, they were just so efficient that they rose in ranks to become the most powerful._

_The Captain was said to be the deadliest. With a flick of a wrist, he could snap your neck without breaking a sweat._

_The Captain was a whisper._

_A ghost of a man._

_The Captain was known by everyone, but no one knew who he was._

_But now Tony did, and he was sure as hell that his name ain't ‘Clyde’._

* * *

Keeping his eyes on ‘Clyde’, Tony counted eight guns trained on him. “Stand down, Rugrats.” He tucked his gun back into the waistline of his pants, giving the blonde a tight smile. “Your lives are safe, no need to thank me for saving your dear leader.” 

All eyes in the room were trained on him with heavy stairs. None of the guns lowered until the man in charge held up a hand, and the rest backed off. “Stark,” he said, his voice dripping with annoyance. 

“Captain,” Tony responded with the same tone, saluting him with his left hand. 

The blonde turned to face his crew, jutting his head toward the body Tony shot down, signaling one of his men went to go fetch it. Turning back to Tony he said, “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” 

“Yeah well I wasn’t really planning to spend my Saturday night watching scum get shot and killed in an abandoned warehouse, but here I am. And by the way- abandoned warehouse? Can you get any more typical? Cause I’m getting serious 1930s mobster vibes.” 

One of the Captain's men, a younger man with sandy hair, dragged the dead man Tony shot across the floor, leaving a trail of dark red blood. 

“Who is he?” The Captain barked. 

“Eh, some guy I’m guessing thirty? Thirty-two? Probably low in ranks trying to off the Captain as a way to get his superiors to learn his name.” The sandy-haired man said, scratching his brow, smearing the blood already on his face.

“That’s Brock Rumlow,” Tony said. 

“You know him?” 

Bending down, Tony wiped some dust off Rumlows face. “Yeah, he’s the head of Pierce’s personal Strike Team... Sorry about your assessment dude but he’s pretty high up in the ranks and you’re about five years off.” Brushing his hands together, Tony stood up, his knees cracking as he did. “Sorry to break it to you Captain, but if he was here, then Pierce really wants you off his ass.” 

The Captain and his team looked like they wanted to speak, but didn’t know what to say. They kept shooting looks back and forth between Tony and Rumlow. 

“Huh,” Tony’s brow furrowed, “that’s a lot of blood for only one bullet.” Tony knows how to shoot a gun. After all, he owned a weapons company. If he didn’t even know how to fire a gun, then he was in the wrong line of business. But even he didn’t think that his one quick shot to the chest would perfectly pierce the man's heart. Maybe he was just better than he liked to give himself credit for. Howard always told him on their quarterly trips to the shooting range that he could do better. “I thought for sure I’d need at least two.” 

Astonishment slipped into the Captain’s voice, as did a little skepticism. “So you don’t feel any remorse for what you just did to him?” 

“To who? Rumlow? I met him a few months back. And yeah, he was fun. He did this thing with his tongue that drove me _crazy.” Tony subconsciously bit his lip, watching the Captain's features morph into mild frustration. “Oh, no need to be jealous, baby. You were fun too.” Taking a few steps forward, Tony reached out and rested his hand over the Captain's chest, ignoring the blood that stained the man's breast pocket and now smeared against his palm. “But he had what was coming to him. No harm down.”_

“No harm?” The brunette said behind him, “Ya just killed the guy. I’m pretty sure ‘no harm down’ ain't true.” 

“And what? You’re saying that you’ve never killed anyone?” The brunette scoffed, “Yeah, I thought so.” Tony didn’t understand what all the fuss is about. These gang members are responsible for countless deaths, the dozen dead bodies surrounding him only prove his point. 

The Captain shook off Tony’s hand, walking to the body and scrutinizing the man he used to be. “What are you doing here?” He asked, taking the gun off Rumlow’s body and tossing it in the corner. 

“Well last night, I took something from you and you got it back. Now the last time I saw you, something of mine went missing,” He held out his hand, palm up, “I want my property."

The smug smile that spread across the Captain's lips pissed him off. It reminded him of a kid on a basketball team, prematurely gloating about how his team won the game right before the other team made the winning shot. The blonde turned around to look at his crew, all of them, except the red-haired women, were shooting Tony smug grins. The red-haired woman’s eyes were hard as steel and trained on Tony. She openly kept her guard up, while the others appeared slightly more loose, however, Tony was under no impression that all of them still couldn’t kill him within half a second's notice. "Well sorry, hate to break it to you Barbie, but it ain't here."

“Really?” Tony rolled his eyes, holding up his phone, “Because my tracker says otherwise.” 

He honestly wanted to laugh when he watched, in synchronization, as the smug smiles dropped off of every single persons face. The Captain cleared his throat. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you there, Barbie. We need it.” 

“Funny,” he deadpanned, “now hand it over.” 

“Sorry, doll, but we need that little book.” 

“That ‘little book’,” he seethed, “is two years of fucking research. I’ve spent hundreds and hundreds of hours working and investigating for it. Now if you think that having your guard dogs train their guns on me is gonna make me back off then you got another thing coming.” 

The Captain stayed silent for several minutes. Watching Tony as his mutts pointed their weapons at him. “Fine,” he finally said, “You can have your book back.” Immediately behind him, his posse erupted in shouts of protests but was silenced when the Captain raised his hand. “You can get it back after we’ve made a copy of it.” 

Tony was about to protest but the man didn’t give him the chance. 

“It’s not common that I find a book dedicated to the members and secrets and weaknesses of The Ten Rings, Hydra, and the Black Order. That’s quite the trinity.” 

“Thank you.” He said flippantly. 

“So why’d you do it? Why make that book and keep it hidden away in your office.” 

“Why’d I make it? Well gorgeous, you’re gonna have to buy me a lot of drinks before you get those answers. But how? Well it wasn’t _too_ hard. I teamed up with the Guardians for as much Black Order info as I could get. And then I spent some time with the folks in Asgard's gang to dig up dirt on some other people. As for Hydra, well, let’s just say that you, Captain, aren’t the only mob boss who I got into bed with.” At the appalled look on the Captain's face, Tony clarified. “Not Peirce, you dumbass. I slept with some of the other heads. Grant Ward, Hale, Bakshi. But Strucker I never slept with. He creeped me out so I drugged him instead and he squealed like a pig. Of course, there were also a couple of other unknowing informants.” He cocked his head behind him, “Rumlow over there. He didn’t tell me anything that he thought was secretive, but he didn’t know that the information he gave me tied together all the pieces I needed. And the Ten Rings? Well, that shit was just too easy. Once I knew where to look, I got everything I needed.” 

The Captain absentmindedly nodded his head as he listened to Tony’s words. Once it was clear that Tony was done speaking, he turned to his brown-haired friend who Tony dubbed ‘Guard Dog #1’ in his head. The two seemed to be having a silent conversation that Guard Dog #1 wasn’t happy with. When the Captain turned to the rest of his team, GD#1 turned to Tony. 

“How the hell did you manage to put a tracker in a book?” 

Tony scoffed. “Do you know who I am? Do you really need to ask?” 

“Guess not,” he shrugged, walking past him to a bag hidden in the shadows. Tony rolled his eyes when he saw what the man pulled out. 

“A burlap sack? Really?” 

“What can I say? The Captain’s old fashioned” He said smugly before placing the bag over his head and tying his hands behind his back. 

“There is blood inside this.” He called out, choking against the fabric. It smelled like death. 

“Sorry about this Stark, but you don’t get to complain.” 

Tony was about to protest, but a heavy object smashed into the back of his head and his vision went dark.  
.  
.  
.

When he came to, the bloodied burlap sack was no longer on his head and instead he was sitting in what he looked like an office. The desk he sat in front of was covered in messy stacks of paper and countless scattered pens. There was a small window on the far wall and the window sill underneath it was littered with solar toys from the dollar store. Ones of snowmen and flowers and many others that start ‘dancing’ once the sun hits it. Along the wall pictures of the Captain and his team. Ones with crisp, untouched edges and others with curved edges and fading color. Some photos were looked more recent, judging by their appearances, while there were also photos where they looked younger. There was even a photo of the Captain and Guard Dog #1 as children. Huh. The Avengers must have formed young. 

Tony's brain pounded against his skull as he looked around the room. A comfortable-looking green couch leaned against the wall covered in a folded blanket and two throw pillows. Tony really wanted to take a nap on that but when he went to stand, his ankles were zip-tied to the legs of the chair and his hands behind the back of the chair. 

Just great. 

Tony struggled against the ties, trying to loosen them but to no avail. 

The door behind him creaked open and Tony turned his head to the side to see The Captain walk into the room, holding the book in his large, calloused hands. “Sorry about that.” He said, pulling a knife out of thin air and bending down to cut the zip ties. “Everyone was just being extra cautious.” 

“Hate to break it to you Cap, but you need to fire your welcoming committee.” Tony rubbed his sore wrists, the red marks left indentations in his skin. “Now I believe that belongs to me.” He nodded his head towards the Captain's hands. 

“I suppose it does.” 

He held the book out and Tony snatched it right away. Tony flipped through the pages, making sure everything was still there, no pages ripped out, no names erased, nothing scribbled in the margins. But it was perfect. Nothing out of place, everything was how he left it. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, raising his head to meet the Captain's eye. 

The man eyed him warily as if waiting for Tony to do something, act out or cause a fit. It made him want to roll his eyes. 

“I need to know,” Tony said, his fingers finally uncurling from their tight grip on the book, “How did you not know who Brock Rumlow was? He has a whole page dedicated to him in the book, plus they're a picture of him stapled in it and he’s mentioned several times throughout the Hydra section. How did you not recognize him?” 

The Captain scratched the back of his head, “To be completely honest, I didn’t read it.” 

Tony’s eyes must have bugged out of his head. “You what?” 

“I didn’t have time.” He said simply. “After I realized what it was, I found out the location of one of their warehouses and heard they were making a deal so the Avengers and I thought that we should pay them a visit.” 

“And when did you have time to realize what my notebook was?” He hummed. “Because at no point, when you stormed into my office, did you have time to look through that book.” When the man said nothing, the realization hit him. Gasping loudly, he yelled, “You took it as revenge!” Damn that son of a bitch got lucky, grabbing the closest object to him to get back at Tony. He probably believed that he was taking Tony’s day planner or his empty monogrammed journal. Definitely not a book containing the secrets of New York Cities' three largest gangs. 

The Captain looked down at his lap, like a kid getting yelled at by their parents. 

“Oh my God! This is ridiculous.” He huffed, letting his head fall against the back of his chair. 

“Well, I only did what you did to me.” The Captain protested. 

“No- what you did was for revenge. You probably would have thrown that book into the dumpster outside. I take things for excitement. For the thrill. Everything I’ve ever taken-”

“-stolen,” 

Tony huffed, rolling his eyes, “Everything I’ve _acquired_ , I keep.” 

The Captain looked disbelieving. 

“Well it’s not like I use or wear any of it,” he protested, “I just keep them.”

“Like mementos,” 

“Oh don’t sound so high and mighty! You kill people for a living!” 

“You killed someone two hours ago, in case you forgot!” 

“Well, at least it’s not my day job!” 

Neither said anything for a couple of minutes, their chests were rapidly rising and falling from all their yelling. Tony supposed that some of the Avengers could hear them. They're probably betting right now on what the other will say or do or to see who is going to be called in to help the Captain dispose of his body. 

"Am I free to go?" He asked, not liking the thought of his body being thrown in the river. 

Sighing loudly, the Captain nodded. "Yes, but we can't let you know our bases location so you're gonna have to…" he raised his hands over his head and pulled down. 

"I'm gonna have to put that fucking burlap sack on again." Tony filled in as the Captain nodded, "That's great, no that just _spectacular,_ " he muttered. "Don't you have a blindfold or something?"

"Kinky," the Captain added with a small smile adorning his handsome face. 

“Since that wasn’t a clear answer on the blindfold and I really don’t want to wear that sack of death any time soon, I think I’ll just wait here a little while longer.” He leaned back against his chair and smiled slightly to the Captain who, oddly enough, blushed in response. 

Huh. 

Their content silence was broken no more than five minutes later by Tony. “I’m surprised at you.” 

The Captain arched his eyebrows. “And why is that?” 

“You stayed the night.” He said simply. “Isn’t it like ‘gang-leader code’ to never stay the night with someone. Especially with a supposed one-night stand.” 

“What can I say,” he smiled smugly, “you tired me out, Barbie.” 

And Tony had to admit, he was surprised with himself for not falling asleep. For a few minutes there, he seriously considered just going to bed, wrapped up in ‘Clydes’ arms instead of robbing him. And forty minutes later, when he got home, he slept like a baby for the rest of the night. 

“What. A. Flirt.” he joked, smiling at the man. 

Tony watched as ‘Clyde’s’ smile slowly slipped off his face while his expression morphed into one of curiosity. “Why do you do it? If you don’t do anything with robbed items, why do you keep doing it? And, if you always use the same tactics, how do you never get caught?” 

“The things I steal? They’re useless to me. But to other people, they have value. And besides, who would think that Tony Stark stole there watch? After all, I could afford any watch I want. Why would I need theirs?” 

“By _why_ do you do it? As you said, you could buy anything you want. Why take from others?” 

While he had a point, it’s just something that Tony has been doing since he was younger. It started as a kid, stealing from his mother's jewelry box or snatching his father's newest tie clip. Then he got ballsier after being sent away to boarding school and would rifle through students backpacks in the locker room. And once he got to college, that’s when the real fun started. To most people there, he was just some spoiled rich kid who got accepted because of his name, not his mind. Even though he was only fifteen when he went to school, it didn’t matter to them. They didn’t think he had any real skill so he worked on perfecting his skills. Just not the skills they thought. And when one of their bracelets went missing or their shoes… well, who would expect him to be behind the thievery? “There is something so exhilarating about it. I just can't stop.” Tony reached out towards the Captain's wrist, which was lying face down on the mahogany surface, and glided his fingers over the surface of his watch. “I don’t want to.” 

“How far would you go?” Tony shot him a questioning look, “Would it stop at watches? What else are you willing to take from someone.” 

Leaning forward on the desk, Tony stood up. Keeping eye contact with the Captain, he moved from his spot and sauntered behind the desk. The Captain turned in his chair, a light, playful smile on his lips. “If I see something I want,” Tony murmured before hiking up his legs onto the chair and pressing a knee on either side of the Captain's thighs, “Then I take it for myself.” He whispered in his ear, before connecting their lips.

* * *

“Not that I’m not thrilled about this outing, because I am, but this isn’t really how I pictured our date going.” 

“Really? And what did you think would happen?” 

“Well, I definitely didn’t expect you to ask me to go on a date with another man.” 

Tony truly felt that he should have seen this coming from a mile away. Honestly, he was more upset with himself for not realizing the Captain's plan sooner. He spent all afternoon choosing between outfits and styling his hair _just_ right. When the Captain said they were going somewhere nice, Tony pulled out all the stops. A William Westmancott three-piece fitted suit, Armani wingtips, and a stunning Cartier with a black wristband. And Tony had to admit, he looked damn good. So if he has to do this for the Captain, then the Captain better fuck his brains out later tonight. 

“Hammer is all talk with no real bite.” The blonde guaranteed. “Besides,” he leaned in close, placing a feather-light kiss on his ear, lightly nibbling on his earlobe, “How could he say no to you, especially in that suit.” 

Tony felt his eyes roll up toward his skull as the Captain’s lips traveled down his jaw and down the scope of his neck. It took all of Tony’s will power to speak up, “If you keep doing that, then you’ll mess up my suit.” 

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he huffed, voice going deeper. 

“Oh, ‘Clyde’, I don’t think you understand. This suit costs more than you do.” They’ve both officially established that ‘Clyde’ is not the Captain's real name, but no matter how much Tony begged him, he absolutely refuses to share his real name. 

_’A date? An actual date Friday night?’_

_‘What do you say?’_

_‘Hm… Well honestly, it kind of pisses me off that you won’t tell me your real name, but I have to admit, the mystery is actually a surprising turn-on. So you can pick me up at six.’_

So Tony really had no other option except to call him ‘Clyde’. Because, really, he couldn’t bring himself to call him ‘Captain’ every time. And while Tony does admit that he has a thing for a man in uniform, he does not have a thing for higher authority figures than himself, so constant ‘Captain-calling’ just won’t work. But the more Tony continued to call him ‘Clyde’, he could see now that nickname gets under the man's skin. The Captain's eye will twitch, or his jaw will clench. Tony finds it kind of adorable that he can get under the man's skin just by calling him the name that he gave him in the first place. 

The Captain pulled away, a challenging look in his eye, “Oh Barbie,” the man insisted on constantly calling him ‘Barbie’ half the time so Tony never knew which name he was going to hear. But he had to admit, hearing ‘Clyde’ call him ‘Barbie’ really did something to him. “If I want to buy you a suit, I’ll buy you a suit. No matter how overpriced.” 

Excuse him. “Overpriced? Oh, dollface you just wish your ass looked as good as mine does in this suit.” And with that, Tony completed pulled away from the Captain and slid out of the parked car they were sitting in. He didn’t even wait for ‘Clyde’ to follow before sauntering into the restaurant, letting his hips widely sway as he went. 

When he walked through the doors, he saw his target already sitting at their table, scanning the menu before him. 

“Sorry for keeping you,” Tony said, making his presence known. Hammer stood up as Tony got to the table, clearly nervous about how this meeting and/or night was going to go. The Captain had briefed him earlier. Apparently Justin Hammer was just starting out in the weapons business and was already on AIM’s payroll. AIM is a relatively young gang that started out around five years ago in Queens before moving to lower Manhattan. And now that he’s meeting with Tony Stark, surely that’s enough to make the man wet his pants, but also knowing Tony’s reputation and this being an ‘informal business dinner’, Hammer’s brain is probably going into overdrive about all of tonight's possibilities. 

As the time passed by, Tony listened to Hammer drone on and on about how amazing his products are and how great his start-up company is and how he thinks that Stark Industries would really be better promoting themselves if they partnered with Hammer Tech. It was awful. Tony waited an hour before making his play. He had stood up to head towards the bathroom, but before he could do that, he quickly slipped behind Hammer's chair and leaned against the sitting man before whispering seductively in his ear, "I'm going to freshen up, I'll be right back, darling. And then you could tell me more about your ideas for self-destructing ammunition." 

When Tony turned around, he caught the Captain's eye and just barely nodded before heading to the bathroom, carrying a sleek, newly released to the market, StarkPhone that had been previously resting in Hammers jacket pocket. 

As he headed down the hall, ‘Clyde’ was going to approach Justin and distract him from reaching for his phone in his jacket pocket by pretending to be a huge fan. 

As Tony reached the bathroom and entered a stall before locking it behind him, he worked on unlocking the phone. He hooked JARVIS up wirelessly to his own phone and within 28 seconds he was in. 

The goal was to find any potential contacts for AIM or any dates pertaining to any meetings, drop-offs, or anything else that appeared sketchy. 

Tony jotted down a few phone numbers, found a message that just said _'Docks… 123 830 aviation… Charlie...blue'_ Tony wasn't sure if this was just some stupid code or if Justin was going to be taking aviation lessons. But either way, he wrote it down and then went to return to the table so Hammer didn't start to wonder where he was. 

As Tony walked back, Cap saw him and excused himself from Hammers side; but Tony didn't pretend to ignore the way his dark pupils flashed as they saw Tony. 

And huh, that gave him an idea. 

The rest of the night, Tony flirted obscenely with Hammer, laughing loudly at all his not-funny jokes and making sure to appear super interested in the man. By the time the check arrived and Hammer pulled out his checkbook, Tony looked over at ‘Clyde’ who was seething by the bar, his glass of whiskey caught in his claw-like grip. 

"So, uh, your place or mine?" Justin asked, a play-boyish smirk adorning his face. 

"Neither," Tony said, standing up and pulling on his suit jacket. 

"Wait… hold up, what?" He looked crestfallen. "I thought we had a good thing going here." 

"Sorry Stud, not tonight," Tony said simply, walking away from the table and out of the restaurant. After a moment, he felt the Captain's presence behind his and when he reached the car he barely had time to turn around before the Captain was on him. He forced the car door open and Tony fell backward onto the seat as the Captain climbed over his body, already mauling him with his lips. 

"Did you find anything." ‘Clyde’ asked, momentarily pulling his lips away before attaching them to Tony's neck. Biting and sucking on the taut flesh. 

"Don't insult me," He scoffed, "Of course I did." 

"You're brilliant, Barbie." His voice sounded so hoarse and all of Tony's blood traveled to his dick. "I could barely stay in my seat all night. Seeing you flirting with him, with that cockroach, all I wanted to do was take you right there, on the table." 

"Well next time make sure it's you sitting on the other side of the table and you got yourself a deal." Tony rose his legs, hooking them behind ‘Clyde's’ hips, locking him in place. The fit was extremely tight, but Cap did all he could to rub himself against Tony while he rid him of their clothing.

‘Clyde’, ever the apparent boy scout, had already prepared for this scenario and hid a bottle of lube along with condoms in the car. Spreading him open wasn’t the easiest fit, but soon Cap was pushing inside him, and Tony couldn’t find himself able to care about their current location. 

All that mattered was the push and pull of ‘Clyde’. The wet heat that engulfed him, the strong, sturdy frame that covered him like a blanket. Before either of them knew it, they were coming with loud grunts and heavy breathing. 

“Damn,” ‘Clyde’ muttered, rubbing his forehead against Tony’s, “The things you do to me, Barbie.” 

Tony couldn’t help but think the same thing.

* * *

Tony felt numb. Undeniably numb. He's tried for months to ignore the weight pushing down against his chest. To ignore the nagging voice in the back of his mind, targeting his thoughts to travel to a place he didn't want to go. 

But now it was time. It was past time. 

Cap was sleeping beside him, his chest rising slowly before collapsing on itself and repeating the cycle. Tony watched him like he did the night they met. Watched as all the worries and hardships that rested on ‘Clydes’ face melted away into a peaceful slumber. He looked younger when he slept. Happier. 

Tony knew this moment was coming for a while, but he had a hard time convincing his legs to move and lift him off the bed. 

They’ve been together for five months now, and Tony swears he’s been in love with the man for the past three. 

And that’s what makes all this so much harder. 

Because Tony knows that Cap doesn’t feel the same way as he does. 

The way he looks at Tony is with lust, not love. He doesn’t reciprocate Tony’s feelings and it took him a long time to acknowledge that Cap only wants him for his body and his thievery skills. 

So far he has taken on a minimum of four ‘missions’/ cons each month. Now Tony understands that Cap isn’t a go to the movies or for a walk in the park date kind of guy. Neither is Tony. But it would have been nice if instead of robbing people, they could have gone out for dinner. 

So he forced himself to quietly tiptoe around Caps bedroom for a piece of paper and I pen. In a scribbled, hardly legible note, Tony wrote, _‘I’m Sorry’_ before placing it on the pillow he was previously resting his head over. 

Tony cast one last look toward ‘Clyde’, willing himself not to let any of those tears that were traveling to the surface of his eyes, escape. He knew this was going to happen, he knew it. And ‘Clyde’ would get over him soon enough. He’d have to find a new man who excels in thievery and a new fuck-buddy, but he would adapt. He’d do well for himself. 

“I love you,” Tony whispered, the words barely making any sound as they passed his lips. 

So as quietly as he could, Tony opened the bedroom door and slipped out. It took Cap almost four months to allow Tony to leave his home base without a blindfold on. And it took a lot of begging on Tony's part to even get that freedom. 

If the man can’t even trust him with something as simple as where he lives, then they would never get to a place where he would trust Tony fully. Let alone even tell him his name. 

And how crazy was that? They’ve been together for five months and Tony still called him ‘Clyde’. 

So Tony had to leave. He had to. Because if the Captain couldn’t trust him, then what point was there in pursuing this relationship any further. Too many of Tony’s relationships have been built on distrust. He doesn’t want to build one with the Captain if it will have the same results. 

So Tony tip-toed through the house, surprised that he didn’t run into anyone. Usually, Hawkeye could be found in the kitchen and the Winter Soldier and Black Widow sitting together on the couch. But tonight everything was quiet in the seemingly empty house. 

And Tony supposed that that was for the best. There was no point in conversing one last time with these mysterious strangers who have become a larger part of his life. There was no point, and there was no trust. The closest he’s ever been to hearing any of their real names was when the Hulk got drunk and began to call Hawkeye ‘Cl-’ before a hand was slapped over his mouth. 

Closing the front door behind him, he left the grand home for the last time, practically running to his car parked down the street. 

Once he got to his penthouse in Stark tower, Tony collapsed in his bed, tucked under several blankets, and finally allowed him to shed tears over his lost love. 

.  
.  
.

By the time Tony opened his crusted eyes, the light poured in from the windows and cast itself into his view. He sighed, snuggling further into his blankets when suddenly the gears in his brain started turning and his memories from last night/early this morning can back to him. 

All Tony wanted to do was stay in bed and watch movies all day and eat junk food. He needed a mental day after everything that happened. And he meant to furrow back in his covers when his peripheral vision picked up a figure sitting against the headboard beside him. 

“Jesus!” he yelled. “What the hell are you doing here?” Tony shuffled back against his headboard, pushing himself as far away from the Captain as he could. Oh God, he must be angry. That must be why he’s here: to kill him. This is why he knew that he shouldn’t have gotten involved with a gang leader in the first place, it was going to get him killed. Killed with his body being disposed of in the river, only to resurface months later, or maybe even never. 

“Good morning to you too,” he deadpanned, lifting the note Tony wrote him last night in his hand. “Why are you sorry?” ‘Clyde’ asked normally, as if this were a regular conversation, not one that was about to get him killed. But this might be his thing. Like leading a lamb to the slaughter; luring him into a false sense of security before he went in for the kill. 

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he muttered, lifting the comforter to cover his face. “Just please get out ‘Clyde’.” He could already feel the tears start to form while he sniffled. 

“What's wrong?” Cap asked, suddenly serious. 

“Nothing! I just… I need you to leave me alone… I can't be around you anymore” 

“Anymore?” ‘Clyde's’ face shifted from one of confusion to dawning. “You're breaking up with me? That's what this note meant? That's you're done?” He looked back and forth between Tony and the note in his hand as if that would change the writing on the paper. 

Regretfully he said, “Yes,” angry at how his quivering voice betrayed him. 

Neither said anything for a few tense minutes. Tony trying to find out if he was going to get murdered or not and ‘Clyde’ coming to the realization that he just got dumped. Tony’s sniffling seemed to bring the blonde back to the moment. “Why are you crying? I’m the one who just got dumped.”

Tony couldn’t answer. He just couldn’t. 

“Why?” Cap eventually huffed out. 

“What?” He snapped. “What do you want?” 

“I deserve to know why you’re breaking up with me.” 

Tony got out from under his covers, wrapping several different blankets over his form while he trudged to the other side of the room. “Well that’s a loaded question,” he muttered. 

“Then I want to hear the answer!” 

“Oh, you want to hear the answer? Well, here you go!” ‘Clyde got off the bed and stalked towards Tony, waiting for him to begin. “Well for starters you don’t fucking trust me! It took months for you to show me where you live! Ninety-nine percent of your life is completely unknown to me. I don’t know who the hell you are or what you think, all I know is that you don’t want me. You… you only want me when I can go on jobs for you and get you your precious info or your ‘priceless’ objects! And when I’m not doing your dirty work, your fucking me! It’s like you don’t even fucking want me for me! You want me for what I can give you!” 

“That’s not true!” he protested. 

“Oh please!” He called out, basically snarling at the man, “My only use for you is to be your doll to use to con people and then fuck! You don’t want me for me Cap! I just can’t do this anymore.” He collapsed to the ground in his heap of blankets, sobbing as his body crumpled, folding in on itself. 

Vaguely he could feel a large hand rubbing up and down against the blanket draped over his back. “Tony,” ‘Clyde’ said softly, as if afraid Tony will break even more. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

“How?” Tony shot back, raising his head just barley, “How? I love you and I don’t even know your real name! You don’t trust me with anything in your life and I don’t want to only know part of you. I don’t want to be treated this way! Maybe I deserve it, after all the shit I’ve pulled, maybe this is exactly what I deserve. But I just can’t! If you can’t trust me, then this can’t work! I’m not going to just sit around and-”

“Steve,” he said, looking down at Tony’s face. 

“-act like,” he faltered, “...what?” 

“Steve. That’s my name.” Tony completely froze. The Captain brought his hands forward and cupped his cheeks, spreading his tears with his thumb. “Steve Rogers.” 

“You… you just…” Tony couldn’t form words right now. ~~Clyde~~ _Steve_ looked terrified, which made sense, he did just divulge his largest secret to Tony. “Steve,” he said, testing the word out on his lips. 

“Steve,” Steve brought his hands down and very gently picked Tony off of the floor. Tony wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist as they moved, tucking his forehead into his neck. When Steve reached the foot of the bed, he turned so he could sit, his body sinking down into the mattress as Tony remained clinging to him like a koala. “You know I love you too, right?” He asked after a few minutes of silence. 

Tony only sniffled in response, and rubbed himself even further into Steve’s neck. 

“I think I’ve been in love with you since you shot down Rumlow to save me.” He admitted, letting his hands rest on Tony’s waist. “The way you carried yourself that night, confident, unafraid of anything. And the fact that you outsmarted all of us by placing a tracker in your book… it completely blew my mind. At first, everyone was telling me not to pursue this. It was too dangerous. You were a civilian, you were in the public eye, and you would distract me. Part of the reason why I kept putting you on missions was to prove your usefulness to the team. If they thought that you were resourceful instead of just distracting, then they would have a better time warming up to you. And it seemed to work. The Hulk seems to like talking to you more than most of us, and Hawkeye asked me what he should get you for your birthday, even though it’s not for another month… So far Winter Soldier needed to most convincing, but Tony, love, you are part of the family. You earned you spot one hundred times over. And every day I thank whoever's listening that I ignored my stupid friends and we pursued this… It’s just that since that night in the warehouse... I knew that I needed you in my life. I wanted to know more. _Needed_ to know more.” 

Tony pulled away to look into his eyes, “Do you mean it?” 

Steve ducked down and rubbed their noses together. “Of course I mean it.” he chuckled lightly, “You’re my everything, Tony.” 

Tony felt two more streams of tears raced down his face. 

Tentatively, both leaned forward, meeting in the middle. It started slow, just the gentle brush of their lips, a chill racing through their body as Steve’s hands-on Tony’s waist tightened slightly. Soon they applied more pressure, traded playful kisses. 

“I love you,” Steve whispered in between kisses. “I love you,”

“I love you,” Tony repeated feeling like he was on cloud nine. 

The two smiled into their kisses, giggling as they went, whispering sappy thoughts to make the other smile even wider. 

At one point Tony joked, “I knew your name wasn’t fucking _Clyde_ ” 

Steve pulled away, pecking Tony’s nose, unable to keep the smile off his face. “Yeah, well you’re still Barbie to me,” he said before reclaiming Tony’s lips.


End file.
